


Memoirs and Pettiness

by VaultOfMelkurMistress



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alone in the Masters TARDIS, Comedy, F/M, International Fanworks Day 2020, Light-Hearted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22744843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaultOfMelkurMistress/pseuds/VaultOfMelkurMistress
Summary: A quick comedy one shot written for the International Fanworks Day 2020 prompt: characters discovering fanworks about themselves.13 is alone in the Master's TARDIS - in the middle of Spyfall Part 2. She finds an interesting book, and does some petty things...but realises she actually really does miss him.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 121





	Memoirs and Pettiness

Alone in his TARDIS. 

Of course there was an immediate threat and time was of the essence. Of course she had been thrown totally by him showing up, trying to blow her and her friends up on a plane, and leaving her with his cryptic words, then enjoying the fact that she was trapped without her TARDIS, but now - now she had his.

Naturally she explored a little. Snooped, some might call it, but she had chosen to call it exploring. He could have all manner of half formed evil plans, weapons, devices - it really was for the best that she snoop…..explore. 

She wandered around, pushing open doors, not to reveal a myriad of evil plans, but instead; a lush garden, then a music room - grand piano at the centre, a huge kitchen, a cinema, and eventually, she reached the library.

She had asked Missy, many times over the course of the seventy years they were together at the vault, about her TARDIS. Missy had always given little away, and she had given her that, realising that it wouldn’t be healthy if she had no control at all over her choices. She had hoped though, that in time, as they began to leave the vault together more and more, that they would visit. She really had wanted to see her library - it had impressed in the past. 

The Master’s library rarely changed - and this time was no exception. 

Tall oak panels, varnished and cared for - long wooden sliding ladders to reach the very high shelves. A large polished table with a reading lamp that illuminated as soon as she approached the table. Up a small flight of stairs was another level, books behind an exquisitely decorated cage. She wanted to stay and look through the Master’s collection, but she could not ignore the pressing needs elsewhere. This moment alone she had managed to steal however, was going to be used wisely.  
  
She went straight to the cage, her sonic having no effect whatsoever on the lock. She huffed and changed settings, trying again and again, but nothing worked. 

“Come on, I promise not to take anything, just want to see what treasures he has here,” she pleaded, wondering if his TARDIS would take pity on her and let her in.

To her utter surprise, it did.

The door creaked open, and she stared, taken back momentarily, then stepped through. 

Volumes upon volumes of ancient texts, many likely stolen, some centuries old. Her hand ran along the spines carefully, amazed at some of the titles, some of which she had longed to locate for hundreds of years. Considering, quite seriously borrowing a couple of texts, she spotted a shelf at the bottom with one book in the centre of the shelf.  
  
“One book on it’s own, when all the other shelves are so full, why do you think that...oh, I’m alone aren’t I? Never get used to that. Won’t hurt to look.”

She crouched down on the floor and took out the book, running her fingers over the embossed Gallifreyan lettering on the black and purple leather stitched cover. Intrigued she sat down, her back against the bookshelf as she opened the first page to see it folded out to a much larger page. Opening it out she frowned, confused at first at the rows of notes, each signed with similar and yet differing handwriting. She scanned the list, reading each one, her focus lingering on specific entries:

‘Beginning a memoir of our life with the Doctor’ The Master.

‘Added five chapters, trust me my dears, you will enjoy.’ M

‘He should be kicked out of Master Book Club if he keeps insisting on Americanising the spelling!’ The Mistress.

‘We are not calling this Master Book Club!’ - The Master

‘I’m living with the Doctor for a thousand years - jealous boys?’ Missy

‘I intend to match Missy’s quite...substantial contribution.’ O

She opened the book and scrolled down the inbuilt, paper like screen. It contained a very long list of contents - each seeming to be the titles of stories - some eloquent and clever, some featuring strange titles that she soon realised were actually anagrams, others humorous or romantic and some...down right pornographic. 

She flicked through - they were indeed stories - Master Book Club appeared to be an anthology of writing - short stories featuring themselves, but also….the Doctor. She began to read in intrigue - most stories were set around events she could recall, but the details significantly changed. Some painted a romantic picture, especially during her time at UNIT. Others appeared to detail the Doctor leading a highly submissive lifestyle as, well..the Master’s pet. Others featured the Doctor taking care of Missy, others were dark, sad or emotional. Missy’s section was the largest, and the Doctor realised, written while she was in the vault - yet somehow - she had sent her stories to this book.

“Always guessed you had WiFi in there,” she muttered, before settling down to read one of Missy’s stories. 

It featured Missy and her past self leaving the vault - the Doctor was hopeless, getting into all kinds of trouble and Missy constantly had to save him. The Doctor was almost offended but the writing style was so good that should found herself enjoying the humour. Eventually, the Doctor told Missy that she was quite superior at being good and lavished her with praise - the theme changed from comedy to some very fascinating physicality in the second part - the Doctor tied to her bed as Missy did all manner of highly x rated things to him. 

The Doctor immediately scanned the entire contents of the book with her sonic and copied them all to her own TARDIS. 

Quickly flicking to the end, she saw the most recently written chapter ‘Doctors and Spies.’

“Well...five more minutes - not like I can’t jump back to the point I left.”

This story consisted of her, tied to a chair as he made her clothes dissolve with some form of device. She really planned to read that one word for word. 

Standing up, she took out a pen and added her own note to the list.

‘Wonderful stories. You’re talented, you know Master, and we could have had...all these things. Still can...if you want. Call me...someday soon? When the current crisis settled down. Maybe not Paris this time - the Doctor.’

She stopped by his bedroom, climbing on to his immaculately made bed and rolling around, pulling the sheets into a total disarray. Pleased with herself for this petty act, she contemplated annoying him in as many other ways as she could think of...until her eye fell on a photograph on the wall. The two of them, at the academy - two boys, so many lives ago now, holding hands as they faced each other, both laughing.

She sat up, gathering the sheet around her, breathing in any trace of him she could detect. “I miss us,” she whispered. “I really do miss us.”

She didn't linger, getting up quickly and leaving the bed in a chaotic unmade mess before opening a couple of drawers and rearranging his meticulously ordered clothes. She made her way out, stopping by the library and leaving a book on ethics and morality open on the table, right under the reading light. 

In the console room, she felt a sudden reluctance to leave, taking time to remove a few lethal looking devices and make some small adjustments to his console - programming a rainbow to appear whenever he tried to work on anything remotely dangerous. With a smirk, she decided to take it a step farther and record a hologram of herself, sternly chastising him for whatever evil plan he happened to be devising. She set it to activate whenever he began to work on complex calculations - the odds were very good that he would be up to no good.

Finally, she sat down, plugging her sonic into his console and accessing the book - she began typing, entering her own story to the anthology. Hers featured them laying together in his TARDIS garden - their hands intertwined as they looked into each others eyes, promises and hopes unspoken but understood. A message to him - an invitation, that they could still have each other.  
  
She left soon after - she had work to do. Closing the door behind her, she hoped with all her hearts, just as she secretly dared to every single time but would never admit, that this time, things might change. 

She really did want her friend back too. Not that she was ever going to tell him. 

  
  



End file.
